


All The King's Horses

by Chibihaku



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Destroy Ending, Gen, Introspection, Non-gendered Shepard, Post Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibihaku/pseuds/Chibihaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's -always- a matter of resources. But resources are finite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The King's Horses

Jack Harper once said that ‘It’s always a matter of resources.’ However, what Jack Harper never mentioned was that sometimes resources are finite. 

He and I are two very similar beings, when one considers us. We are both calm, reposed. Prone to fits of temper, when the mood takes us, and we both probably knew far more about the other than either of us cared to admit. And of course there is always our greatest similarity – that neither of us is willing to admit defeat.

I’m staring at my dying friend, and I’m beginning to understand what Jack Harper meant, and the inherent contradictions in his claims. It is always a matter of resources.

The resources have run out.

Logically, I know this. Earth is a recovering war zone, Palaven is all but destroyed. The reports are coming in from Thessia, Surkesh, Tuchanka. We are a limping, aching, broken civilization but we are alive. Our resources are better used rebuilding, healing those who can be healed, helping those who cannot to a swift departure to whatever gods will have them. My agents are reporting from where they can as the galaxy staggers slowly towards recovery.

There are not the resources to spare for what I wish, not without great selfishness.

And yet I wish to be selfish.

It is, after all, always a matter of resources.

(Is this what started him down his path? The regret and the ability to attempt to make right? With my network I can accomplish my goals, but at what cost?)

It is a foolish thing, of course. My friend, even if I managed a second resurrection, will still only ever live for a fraction of the lifespan I have left. I should content myself as others do with saying my final goodbyes and stepping away. The body is ruined. It is a matter of time, a matter of finite resources, a matter of sacrificing the most injured so that the least injured can live. We do not have the time to invest in hopeless causes. We do not have the staff, nor the capacity. 

If I attempt this, innocent people will die.

Innocent people have already died.

It is merely a matter of resources.

Sometimes I wonder about he and I. I wonder if Jack Harper knew me better than he thought he did and if I knew him more intimately than even the closest bond mate. We are the shadow rulers of our hidden kingdoms, untraceable, intelligent – shaping every instance of the lives around us, unaware of how our actions shape us. 

What would my friend choose, I wonder? Would they be selfish and want to live? Would they be selfless and choose to die? If I offered them this choice, what would their final answer be?

Will this story be told through the generations, and would this choice shape it’s telling? Like a child’s nursery rhyme based on historic illusion, how humans put their history to sing-song nonsense. Humpty Dumpty’s fall. The death of a human king in his keep. His kingdom unable to be put together again.

Of those around me, perhaps I am in the best place to find out. I am only young, after all. Perhaps I can even shape the interpretation. I have already written my friend's name in the stars once before.

And it is just a matter of resources.

“Glyph, place a call to Miranda Lawson. We have business to discuss.”

My friend is dying as I watch.

But I will put them back together. Piece by piece, if I have to.


End file.
